


Fowl Play

by Lyrstzha



Series: Chickenification [1]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Comment Fic, Crack, Flash Fic, Gen, Humor, chickenification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-05
Updated: 2006-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrstzha/pseuds/Lyrstzha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal goes back to Whitefall to try to do business with Patience again, in spite of all the perfectly sane reasons why he shouldn't. Chicken-related hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fowl Play

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry in ana_grrl's Wildly Improbable Fic Challenge. Translations are in mouseover as well as at the end of the text.

Mal found Wash in the galley sharing some tea with Zoë. "Turn us about. Patience just called. Got work waitin' for us on Whitefall."

Wash's eyebrows seemed to be trying to send some sort of morse code. "_Patience_," he said in a voice that strongly suggested that he thought maybe Mal had gone deaf. "_Whitefall_," he added. "Zoë, tell the nice man that he's crazy."

Zoë put her cup down and regarded Mal steadily. "Husband's got a point. You feelin' a powerful need to get shot again, Sir? Because I think we could get Jayne to do it without havin' to go all that way."

"Hey now," Mal's mouth quirked a little to one side. "You gotta admit, we did get paid last time. And seein' as she wants us transportin' goods off-world for her, wouldn't make no kinda sense to shoot us 'fore we can."

Wash rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. Because people only shoot at us when it makes _sense_. It's all so clear to me now."

Mal grinned at him wolfishly. "You, they shoot at when it makes sense. Me, folks just shoot at 'cause they're jealous of my rugged profile."

Wash and Zoë exchanged a look and nearly identical snorts. And that right there, Mal thought, was yet another reason not to let crew go taking up with each other.

Wash started suddenly, his eyes widening, and raised a hand as if to stop traffic. "Wait, wait, wait. I swear Mr. Universe said something about rumors of strange things happening on Whitefall lately. Milk curdling fresh from the udder, rivers reversing their courses, guinea pigs barking like tiny terriers. You sure we want to get mixed up in all that oddness?"

Mal crossed his arms. "Ain't no such _mo min chi meow_ nonsense goin' on down on Whitefall or anyplace else. You just get us there an' you'll see."

*********

"I learned me a thing or two since I saw you last, Mal," Patience said with a smile that made Mal's back itch in all kinds of unpleasant ways. The two goons carrying the crate of goods behind her grinned with snaggle-toothed glee, and that just made it worse.

Mal nodded and smiled back at her with an expression that might have seemed pleasant to anyone who didn't know him. "That right? Don't suppose one'a them things you learned is how to do honest business?" His hand tightened ever so slightly in the direction of his gun. He could feel Zoë and Jayne humming with tension on either side of him.

Patience kept smiling. "Can't say as it was."

"You just give us the goods you want moved an' we can be on our merry. Good for us both that way; no need to go revisitin' the past."

"That's the plan, Mal. Just one minor detail you left out." Patience flicked her fingers, and there was a flash like lightning.

Mal dived sideways, hitting the ground firing. His first shot took Patience clear off her feet, and his next hit one goon while Zoë felled the other. It wasn't until then that Mal glanced over to the spot previously inhabited by Jayne. A large brown rooster stood there in a pile of Jayne's clothes and gear, looking as surprised as any animal without eyebrows could.

Mal blinked at it. "Huh," he finally said. "Is it me or did Jayne get chickenified?"

The chicken clucked mournfully and scratched at the rifle next to it.

Zoë walked over and knelt down to regard the rooster thoughtfully. "Looks like he did, Sir. Got the same beady eyes."

The chicken scratched harder at the rifle, and Mal reached out to pull the gun away hastily. The rooster squawked indignantly and flew at Mal, pecking his exposed wrist fiercely.

Mal snatched his hand back to cradle it against his chest. "Ow! That's Jayne all right. Ain't changed all that much after all."

Zoë's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. "Still think just lettin' Jayne shoot you might've been an easier plan."

Mal scowled at her. "Yeah? Tell you what I think, I think you're carryin' the chicken back to the boat. I'll take the goods. May as well get some good outta this trip."

*********

Simon eyed the rooster sitting on the examining table dubiously. "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Captain. It's a chicken."

"I _know_ it's a chicken. That ain't escaped me." Mal pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I want you to make it _ not_ a chicken. I hired Jayne for his muscle an' gun-hand, not his sharp beak an' loud crow. You put him back like he was."

Simon stared at Mal for a minute, then waved a hand helplessly at the rooster. "I'm not a witchdoctor. I'm not even a vet! The best I can do is tell you that I think you have a healthy chicken."

Mal huffed with exasperation. "That top three percent brain a'yours ain't doin' me much good then, is it?"

Simon spluttered and waved a hand at the chicken wildly. "This isn't medicine! This—this isn't even science! This is _black magic poultry_." He paused for breath, and continued in a slightly calmer tone, "Though if I had tried to guess which member of the crew was most likely to be turned into a barnyard animal..."

Mal was in time to grab the chicken's feet as it went for Simon's face, but only just.

*********

Kaylee smiled happily at the rooster as it sat on the galley table shifting its wings restlessly. She offered it a bowl of protein which it eyed sidelong. "I think he's kinda cute this way. Look at his little comb!" She petted the chicken's head with one finger. It clucked querulously at her, but didn't peck.

"Ain't any cuter than he ever was." Mal frowned consideringly and pointed a finger in the chicken's direction. "Could be he smells a mite better, though."

The rooster pecked viciously at Mal's finger with a vengeful look in its beady eyes.

"_Ta muh duh!_" Mal yanked back his bleeding finger and snatched up a plate to fend the chicken off. "Think he's actually meaner this way."

Kaylee murmured soothing nonsense and patted down the chicken's ruffled feathers. It subsided under her hand with a few last angry clucks. "Now Cap, you oughta know better'n to be such a cock-tease after all poor Jayne's been through today." She giggled and grinned sunnily up at Mal.

Mal stared at her. "Ain't nothin' 'bout this gorram day that ain't creepifyin'," he finally managed.

The chicken clucked in what sounded like agreement and fanned its tail in a gesture that looked distinctly rude.

Mal nodded at it. "First sane thing anybody's said to me all day," he told it approvingly.

*********

mo min chi meow: ridiculously strange, illogical, or nonsensical  
Ta muh duh: damn it


End file.
